How the Gallows smile
by Life's scar
Summary: It was clear to see who 7589 was. The wild hair was a dead give away to the main nuisance in his life at any given moment. It was statistically impossible for one man to be at the center of every problem in this Godforsaken complex.


**Title:** How the Gallows Smile…  
**Rating:** R  
**Genre:** AU  
**Pairing:** McShep  
**Warnings:** Uhm, let's see. Violence and mentions of non-con.  
**Disclaimer:**None of the characters belong to me; there is no profit being made from this piece. The title comes from The Distillers'  
**A/N:** Thanks a lot to **lastasalways** for pushing me and helping me figure out minor plot issues (read as holes you could fly a plane through with space left over)and editing the crap I sent her. All mistakes left are mine, feel free to point them out to me if you catch them.  
** Joke Summary:** Where Sheppard is in Military Prison and McKay has sold his sanity to the Military to save himself from gamers…  
**Actual Summary:** It was clear to see who 7589 was. The wild hair was a dead give away to the main nuisance in his life at any given moment. It was statistically impossible for one man to be at the center of every problem in this Godforsaken complex and, yet, he was laying in the infirmary once more. 

Rodney McKay walked into the newly revamped Leavenworth prison complex carrying a glare and a refreshingly unburned mug of coffee. The security guard glared at him when he emptied his hands onto the man's counter so he could safely dig for his forsaken I.D. He was here everyday; they should remember him. It was utterly ridiculous to expect him to have it ready. It wasn't like he was quiet enough for them to forget him.

One of the technicians on duty didn't even wait for him to finish checking in before rushing up to him. He rolled his eyes at the scrawny man; he left very detailed instructions for the night shift, but, apparently, the military bred stupidity and their fools couldn't even read.

To think he had sold the system to the military to avoid the resulting stupidity.

"What is it this time?" He demanded as he began the tedious task of shoving everything back into his briefcase.

"7589's system had another glitch. He's been moved to the infirmary."

"To the infirmary? What the hell were you idiots fucking with to cause a very safe system to put a person in the infirmary?"

"We were adjusting the visual connections when he had a seizure…"

"Morons! Of course he did! There is absolutely no reason to adjust the visual connections! The first page of the instructions states the things you are never to mess with. What moronic idea made you think it could ever be safe to adjust something as sensitive as the visual connections? Of course he had a seizure."

"We thought it would be the only way to adjust it correctly…"

"You're not paid to think. You're paid to follow my instructions and call me if there isn't any step by step directions. Next time, call me before you manage to kill everyone."

"Sir, where are-" The technician began to ask when Rodney turned away from the scrawny idiot.

"To the infirmary to see what damage your idiocy has caused. Maybe the lucky fool won't be able to be reconnected again and will be safe from you morons." How the idiots could even manage to tie their own shoes was beyond him. Apparently, he had wasted his valuble time writing detailed instructions. None of them should be allowed to hold pencils much less be within two hundred feet of his delicate system.

When he entered the infirmary, everything was quiet which pissed him off even more because that meant this had happened hours ago. And no one had bothered to call him. They probably wanted to hook 7589 right back up immediately. Probably hadn't even thought to.

It was probably only by the grace of Carson's stubbornness that they hadn't. If they had, it probably would have killed the person.

Rodney would have to make quite a few adjustments for it to be considered safe again. Which meant more of his time wasted by imcompetence.

It was clear to see who 7589 was even from the doorway. The wild hair was a dead give away to the main nuisance in his life at any given moment. It was statistically impossible for one man to be at the center of every problem in this Godforsaken complex and, yet, he was laying in the infirmary once more. For the third time in a single month.

He had already insisted that 7589 be removed from the program and transferred to a normal military prison. Yet, they refused even with the severe warning that if too many more complications occurred then the man would die. There were no ifs or coulds, it was a certainty.

These were no normal complications though. He was beginning to think that someone was out to harm the slim man and the hell if he was going to allow some stupid imbecile to ruin his otherwise perfectly safe system.

"Laura? Carol… whatever you name is. Go deliver a message to my incompetent staff. No one is allowed near 7589. I will deal with his connections and symptoms myself. If anyone so much as adjusts a screw I will see that they are fired and never work again."

"But-" the blond haired woman began to complain, but Rodney wasn't about to hear any excuses; they were all pathetic anyway.

"Go! I'm sure Carson won't mind if it means he never has to see that man in here again. He could get back to just doing check-ups and paperwork like he's suppose to be doing. He got out of emergency medicine for a reason. He likes boring."

He rubbed at his forehead, glaring at the empty wall in front of him, waiting for his voice to stir Carson from whatever dark corner he was hiding in. He was beginning to think selling his masterpiece to the general public would have been the best option. It might have been easier to deal with than this. At least he would have the amusement of crying students when their minds had rotted.

The man was irrefutably slow whenever Rodney needed to talk to him. It never failed. Well, he wasn't going to go looking for Carson this time. The man could come to him.

"He's heavily sedated," Carson said from behind him. The sneaky bastard. "He woke up and tried to claw his eyes out."

He really hadn't paid attention before, just took note of the hair and knew who it was. Now that Carson brought it up, the bandages on his face were pretty obvious. "I bet he did. They adjusted his visual connections while he was still connected."

"The poor lad."

"I'm going to need his file. The mistakes revolving around him are ridicules so I'll be the only one working on him from now on."

"His files?"

"Yes, his files. Why do I always have to repeat myself?"

Inseart 1A

The first mistake Rodney had made in years was adjusting the settings so

John would have full control of his reality. Though the phone call at four in the morning didn't leave him feeling generous enough to admit it out loud. Not when Carson's voice came over the other line, saying John's heart rate and blood pressure had sky rocketed and weren't responding to any medication.

The only explanation was John hadn't made the reality something nice and pleasant.

He hadn't bothered to wait and listen to whatever nonsense was waiting to be spit out of Carson's mouth. It wouldn't change much; it wouldn't change anything if they were still refusing to transfer the guy out.

The minute a hot desert materialized in front of him, he knew he should have read the whole file, should have convinced Carson to give them up. This taught him to actually listen to Carson the next time he started rattling on about privacy and morals and all that bull.

The first glance around didn't reveal John anywhere. Which was pretty strange, the subject always had to be in the environment. Then he saw him, completely covered in sand, tied to a pole. It probably should have taken him longer to spot the ex-major, but there were random spots of black hair on the head and streaks of darker sand where swear soaked through the thick sand.

Figured, just figured.

Take away a man's dull grey cell, and he replaces it with a dull, brow desert. Figures, Rodney tries to help a man who's warped in the head. Who the hell would willingly put themselves in this position and why hadn't he been given help for this obvious mental disturbance?

To think he had wasted his time writing a program allowing John to create this hell. He was tempted to allow the idiot to wallow here for a few days. Maybe John would right it on his own? Transport himself to a nice, all-expense-paid resort? Except, there was blood pressure and heart rates and the possible side effects that Carson was sure to be raging about at the very moment.

So, to save his ears, he walked over to the prone body and began to struggle with the rotting ropes. It seemed like the thing to do, untie the captive man. "Who are you?" The man asked and Rodney had to fight his body's urge to jerk away.

It wasn't like he needed to explain himself. He didn't even need to untie the man; this was all fake, not real. It was some disgusting form of comfort that had him attempting to untie the man.

Which was stupid. Stupider than allowing the man full reign of his reality, to be honest. He needed to stay as detached as possible so he could write this off as a glitch or a possibility. He didn't need the U.S. Military finding out he was deliberately tampering with the system and circumventing their punishment. He probably should have thought of that before starting this nonsense.

So, instead of responding to the stupid man's question, he focused on the log out option until the desert faded from view and Carson's face was the only thing he could see. "Back away. If I can smell your lunch, you're too close. I'm going to need to disconnect him and work on a few bugs so you'll need to keep him sedated until I'm finished."

"Dr. McKay," he heard the Warden's voice and he honestly nearly squeaked, it took every ounce of will power to keep it in and only gasp quietly. "Why would 7589 have bugs that don't affect the others?"

"Because the monkeys you hired have messed up his connections one too many times. This is the reason I suggested a transfer. Without special coding, which runs a chance of his own special bugs, there's the chance of either his brain being fried or the system proving completely ineffective and him sitting up and walking out of here. As I explained before even agreeing to this contract, any brain damage or disorders and it won't work or it will be fatal. Screwing with his visual connections, adjusting the sensory levels, just unplugging his station and dumping water on it, all while he is connected, will and did cause damage. We're all very lucky that Dr. Beckett believes it to be somewhat superficial and unlikely to affect his life after he serves his time, but it still effects how the system will effect him." He breathed, glaring at the man. "Do you want to transfer him now and save me the overtime?"

"I'm sure you'll be able to handle it. He stays in this facility."

"Figured as much. Well, if you'd leave me alone, I'll finish working on his codes and hopefully he won't wake up trying to claw his eyes out this time. Oh, by the way, no one else will be adjusting any of his settings. If I find out that you order any of the technicians to touch any of the systems connected to him, I'll have attempted murder charges brought up against you."

"You guaranteed the safe-"

"I guaranteed that it was perfectly safe if my instructions were followed perfectly. On various occasions, my instructions were disregarded and I'm not stupid enough to believe that it is a coincidence that most of those disastrous events are connected with this man. I'm merely warning you that I am taking complete control over this man's system to save both of our reputations. No one other than Carson and myself are to so much as lay a finger on him, that way nothing else will go wrong and I can leave this place when the contract is up, with a clear name. If your people kill people after that, well, that's on your plate."

The man gave a stiff nod, obviously angry with him but Rodney didn't really care. They couldn't get rid of him for the next five years or else the whole system went with him and they lost a hell of a lot of money.

As soon as the man was out of the infirmary, Carson turned to him, eyebrows raised high. "Why did you drag me into it?"

"Because you're the only one I trust in this entire complex."

"My staff is perfectly trustable."

"I'm sure they are. But I'll repeat, you are the-"

"Lad, I got it." A short glance around then, "What was the matter with the poor lad?"

"I'll tell you at lunch. Gonna go to a nice pizza joint."

He wasn't entirely sure why Carson stared at him with an odd look on his face until Rodney let out a loud huff of annoyance and glared at the irritating man.

By the time lunch rolled around, 7589 was hooked back up to his system and hopefully behaving in there. Carson was also glaring at him because the run down taco shack in no way looked like a mom and pop pizza place. "What, I don't trust them." Rodney huffed, trying to hold back the laugh that was growing at the sight of Carson eyeing the place, trying to see if it was actually safe. As if he would actually eat anywhere that he wasn't sure was completely sanitary.

"I know a perfectly good therapist to help you deal with your paranoia."

"Whatever. Do you want to hear what that crazy man did to himself or not?" He waited for the nod, before grinning, "I gave him complete control over his reality. Your perfectly good therapist should be given to him, because he had himself tied up in a desert."

"His file stated he had been a POW…"

"Yes, something I would have known if you hadn't pressured me into respecting his privacy. With that information, I wouldn't have been stupid enough to give complete control to someone who is mentally ill."

"He's not-"

"No, because normal people tie themselves up in a desert for fun. Whatever, PTSD or psychosis, I don't care. So, it's easier to just add restrictions than to build a completely new world for him, so I think I've got it set to home for him."

"Rodney-"

"Yes, yes, I know. Not everyone has had perfect childhoods, but I figure he had an apartment to call home at one point as well if it was that way for him."

"Are you going to check this out or just wait until he's nearly suffering from a heart attack this time?"

"I'll be checking on it tomorrow morning. I have about a hundred other prisoners to check on other than him."

"And if another one starts coming in with strange events, we'll know if it's someone after you or if they're after him."

"Now who is the paranoid one? Well, unless his previous CO has got plenty of money to be bribing people to commit murder, I don't see who would be after him. Though, I'm pretty sure they just added the homosexual on the charges against him to hurt his character, but I wouldn't want to murder one of my subordinates just because they-"

"Put you in the hospital for a month and guaranteed you had a desk job for the rest of your life? It's similar to if you lost the use of your hands; you could still give the orders but you couldn't be out there doing it. He fractured the man's skull, nearly killed him then and there and then completely destroyed the man's right leg. They were barely able to save it. I say that you would put out a hit for him as well."

"Yeah, well, if the man's defense was true, then his old CO deserved more."

"Very true but they never could find the boy that was supposedly being attacked so…"

"Yeah."

The next morning, Rodney disconnected from the system only to glare at Carson. "You forced me to be a humanitarian to a fucking moron." The look Carson gave him only managed to anger him more; the small rise of eyebrows causing his glare to deepen. "Don't even say a word. I have to fix his system again."

It took him the better part of the day to finish the new coding, trying to add enough restrictions so that the man couldn't possible have himself in a painful place. Hell, it took him the whole day. He should have been home two hours ago and Carson was glaring at him, trying to silently urge him to hurry up because he was suppose to be off three hours ago instead of waiting for Rodney to finish so they could disconnect the idiot long enough to upload the changes.

So, when he hit the disconnect button and nothing happened, he was seething with rage. Especially since it meant that someone on the night shift had screwed with the man's system because he knew damn well none of his code were the cause of it, and John had been moved to the infirmary the instant Rodney had disconnected himself after watching John's hell known as home-life. The only time John hadn't been under the watchful eye of either Carson or Rodney had been during the night shift. So, Rodney was beyond pissed.

"That's it. I'm setting up cameras. I'm going to find out who the fuck played with 7589's system after I specifically said to keep their grubby paws off." He yelled into the intercom in the infirmary. He wasn't even about to waste his time walking down to where the night-shift was, just slammed at the intercom. Every damn issue happened while they were on. "If one more issue occurs while the nightshift is working, I will fire every one of you. So you better look at which ever moron is working beside you and glare at them because I swear to God, every employer you try to work for will hear about you utter incompetence. And if you think you can find all my cameras, you're sadly mistaken."

He vaguely heard Carson speaking on the intercom, going on about something or 'nother about being grateful for any suspicious activities. He really didn't pay much attention to Carson; he had another few hours of work ahead of him.

"What options do we have now… couldn't we just unplug him?" Carson questioned as soon as he was done undermining Rodney's authority, placing his hand on Rodney's shoulder to get his attention.

Rodney sighed, hanging his head. "No, there's a twenty-five percent chance that the shock to his system would kill him. Since he's been through quite a few shocks already, the chances of that happening rise dramatically. You can get me a pot of coffee and go home to sleep. I have to write a new code to allow me to go in and disconnect him that way. I'm not going to risk playing with the whole system while he's still connected to figure out how the disconnect button was disabled so that's the easiest thing and I'd rather not shut down the whole system unless there is no other option."

"How long is it going to take you to write that?"

"Hopefully only a few hours but it could take until tomorrow morning."

Carson nodded, forfeiting his own coffee cup to Rodney. "I'll have Laura watch him during the night shift from now on."

"Laura? The blond that I sent to scare my staff? Doesn't she work the day shift?"

"No, she works the night shift which is why she tried to protest your orders, she had already worked later than usual. I trust her so don't you start on that either."

"Okay," Rodney grumbled, not really caring. They did need someone to keep an eye out at night and Carson wasn't as stupid as he looked sometimes.

"Okay, I'm going to go out and get us some dinner. I have some more reports to work on and his heart rate is a bit higher than I'd like, so I'll stay as late as I can."

Around four in the morning, Rodney was done and glaring at the computer as Carson tried to get enough coffee in himself to be considered almost awake. "So, why can't you just upload the previous one if you can upload this one safely?"

"Because I'm not changing the whole reality suddenly, I'm just adding the ability for me to disconnect him from in there. It doesn't affect anything directly connected to him."

"Oh. So, you have to go back in there?"

Rodney nodded as he began connecting himself in, closing his eyes then waited for Carson's concerned voice to trail off before opening them.

He could admit that he wasn't always the bravest man. He would walk straight past a fighting couple without blinking an eye. He always figured they could handle themselves or someone else would take care of it. So, he was rather shocked when his first reaction was to pull the large man (who he assumed was John's father) off of the bruised man. It wasn't the way he was. He didn't do things like that… except he knew no one else would do something similar in this world so that might have explained it.

He knew instantly that the world created was more of a memory than an actual reality. Everything in the room was off, wrong. The grey headed man was taller, bigger than any human had the right to be, as if the memory was from a young kid, maybe an impressionable teenager. He towered over John who, of course, looked the same except there were flashes of someone much younger behind him, around him. Pictures were blurred despite the fact that they were merely five feet from here, and yet there were a few seemingly unimportant items in complete detail.

It was a nice piece of knowledge; he hadn't been aware that the technology was able to do that. He gave the brief thought that the fact opened up many more opportunities for him and selling his invention before he acted on instinct, pulling at John's arm, jerking him away from the scene.

He watched in shock as his previous position was filled by an obviously younger version of the lean man, curled up in a corner, hands around his head as the much larger man yelled obscenities at him.

"You again?" Came John's soft voice from beside him, "You the one who took me outta my cell after making it seem like my eyes were being stabbed?"

"Well, I'm the one who changed your scenery, but I'm not the moron who did the eye thing."

"Huh. What ya gonna do when the therapist signs in for the weekly visit?"

"I have it set to return you to your cell if anyone other than me comes in."

"Oh." Rodney turned to face the man at that, taking in the focus the man had onto the scene unfolding before them.

He turned his attention to it just in time to see the punch landing firmly on the poor kid's back and it was really hard to put the tall man beside him into that of the kid. There was no sound of the punch landing but the man's voice was clear. "I will not have a faggot for a son!"

And then there was another man appearing in the open doorway behind the angry father, smiling.

For the first time, Rodney actually thought the homosexuality charge may have been correct. "Got caught with a boyfriend?" He asked, flinching unconsciously when another hit landed on the protruding backbone.

"With my uncle." John replied, motioning to the other man, his eyes dark but calm.

And wasn't that even more proof of the man's insanity?

"Then why isn't he on the receiving end of a beating?"

"Because he said I was seducing him."

"And your father was idiotic enough to believe that?"

"Uncle was a General so his word was God's truth." John mumbled and Rodney clearly saw the flinch when his younger counter-part's head connected with the wall. "Was in the hospital for a month after that."

"You didn't go home after that, did you? Because that would prove your idiocy."

"No, my Grandmother came and picked me up. Look, why the hell are you doing this to me? Do you get some sick pleasure from watching my memories? Just put me back in my cell."

"Hey!" Rodney barked, turning completely to glare at John. "I'm not the one doing it. It's not my fault you're warped in the head; you've done both of these to yourself. Do you know how long it took me to write the code so you could go home? I figured you'd go to an old apartment or something but, no, you went here to be yelled at and belittled, and now, apparently beaten. Now I'm sending you to a place that looks like my apartment because I figure you can't possible hurt yourself there. Unless, you're actively trying to kill yourself."

"Why don't you just put me back in my cell?"

"Because after the moron messed with your visual connections, it's not safe to keep you in that exact same environment for any amount of time. An hour or two, maybe even three hours if you stretch it, and you'll be fine but any longer and you run the risk of being completely blind by the time your sentence is up."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. Not a very good thing. Now, look, I'm disconnecting you from in here so I can upload the new codes. Try to stay calm so Carson doesn't yell at either of us."

He opened his eyes a moment later to the sound of a deep, raspy cough and gasping. He turned to see Carson holding the rather thin John in a sitting position, rubbing his back while advising him to try and calm down, and breathe slowly.

Rodney signed out at noon to try and catch up on his sleep, leaving Carson to keep an eye out until Laura came in. He was nearly to his car when he saw Teyla walking through the parking lot. His heart stopped for a moment because today was her appointment with John. He prayed that the codes were right, that Teyla would find John lazing about a dull grey cell and that his assumptions that only short times in that environment would be safe, that he wouldn't get a call in thirty minutes stating that John was brain dead.

Then he breathed and calmed down, before waving her over. "What would you think of a program that would allow you to view a patient's memories with them? To see what they really went through?"

"I think it would prove very useful but dangerous as well. Why?" She asked, smiling her calming, demeaning smile at him, as if she thought he may be losing what little marbles he had left.

"Because I just found out that the VR system that the prisoners are connected to, has the abilities to allow that." He said beaming at her; he was actually proud of himself for that. It meant his pet invention had actual real-world promise, other than being for prison systems and games. It could prove truly useful. It meant that his pride and joy was being wasted regulating inmates.

"Very… interesting. How did you not realize this before? I was under the impression that you had considered every option available for you."

He trusted Teyla to do the correct thing. He wouldn't risk bringing her in on Carson and his plan, but he would tell her his actions with John if she ever truly asked for them so there was nothing baring him from admitting to her: "I've been adjusting 7589's system and logged into an actual memory last night."

"You have been experimenting on John?" She said, nearly growling.

No man in his right mind would ever mess with the beautiful woman before him. He suspected that her husband cowed at the show of her anger.

Somehow, he didn't find it odd that she called him by his name rather than his assigned number.

"No, well yes, but not like that. A few days ago an idiot tried to adjust his visual connection while he was still connected so I've been forced to adjust all of his settings and codes for his safety. When you sign in, things might seem off or look odd but I promise you its completely safe."

"And, yet, you found out that you could intrude on his private memories?"

He needed to start remembering that she wasn't a stupid person, that she was trained to catch the little things. He should have just kept his mouth shut really, but he had wanted to boast about the new discovery with someone who might appreciate the capabilities.

"Uhm… well, I overlooked some simple codes. It wasn't like I meant to."

She nodded and patted his shoulder as she smiled. "This is very interesting news, Rodney. And very good news."

And then she was walking away as she called someone.

Pounding on his door woke him up hours too soon after missing a night's worth. "Whoever the hell you are," he yelled as he pulled on a robe, glaring at the door the whole time, "this better be important or I'll make your life hell."

He slammed his apartment's door open only to stare at Teyla's serene face and then his eyes trailed up to the towering man behind her, his fist still raised to pound on his door. "Good evening, Dr. McKay, I have brought you coffee."

"Uhm, thank you? The giant your husband?"

"Yes, this is Ronon. May we come in? We have something to speak with you about."

"I guess, since your brought coffee. How'd you know where I lived because, I can tell you, this is a bit freaky."

"Ronon is a private investigator, I have picked up a few tricks through-out the year." She said softly as she handed the coffee over, following him in. "Carson explained what the two of you are doing concerning John."

"The moron! Look, you can't say anything because I'm pretty sure the military could charge all of us with something."

"It is all right, Dr. McKay. I have no plan on betraying Dr. Beckett's trust. He only told me because I demanded he bring you in to fix John's system. The cell… resembled something out of a nightmare and I wished you to provide a different environment."

"Oh. Oh, so you know, well, it only sent you there because you weren't me… and, I can't put him back into the same codes so I did my best to keep it as safe as possible… and I'm sorry, I should have sent Carson in there to check it out but I was more concerned with what he would be living in. And you have to know how screwed up that man is."

"There is no need for apologies, Dr. McKay." She responded as she sat down on his couch. He couldn't help but eye her husband who preferred to stay standing behind the couch, looking intimidating with his arms crossed.

"Oh… then why are you here?"

"As I told you earlier, Ronon is a private investigator. A few months ago, he was hired by Elizabeth Weir. She is a lawyer who works primly in freeing those who were wrongly convicted. John's Grandmother hired her quickly after he was convicted, but it has proven troubling to find the boy that John supposedly saved."

"During his trial, Sheppard claimed that he did not remember the complete attack. All he recalled was his CO molesting a young boy and him pulling the man away from the boy." Ronon stated, "He doesn't remember anything past that."

"Well, yeah, after what I witnessed last night, I understand that bit."

Teyla sat up straighter, if that was possible, looking at him intently. "What memory did you witness last night?"

"Uh, I don't think it's my place. Really, I mean, if his Grandmother didn't know then…"

"Rodney, this is important. Please," she pressed, taking his free hand in hers.

"Oh, uhm, well, I went in to his father beating him after, well, apparently, after his uncle, who was a general, had either molested him or raped him, I don't know. His father was beating him, calling him a faggot, you know the typical 'my son can not be gay' bullshit and I asked if he'd been caught with a boyfriend and he'd said no, with his uncle."

"Hmm," Teyla mumbled, looking down at the coffee in her hand. "I would like you to request daily meetings between him and me, to assure that his mental state is safe. I, also, would ask that you take the lock off as well and allow me the ability to try and recall his memories."

"No." He said, not losing his glare when her eyes jerked up to stare at him, "Earlier, you said that it had the ability to be dangerous. Well, you forcing him to relive memories and giving you the ability to bring whatever memory fills your fancy is what I would call dangerous. So, no."

"I planned on asking his permission tomorrow. I would not force it on him."

"Yeah, well, I'll be going in with you every time. I'm pretty sure I could set up a way to recall certain memories but it would take too long to work around a way to allow you into it the same way I can. I set that fail-safe in at the very beginning, when I first created the program so it was as simple as writing it so that if anyone signed in, it would give the cell, and all I have to do is log in."

Truth be told, it would only take him a week to insert her codes into the whole system but he was tired of writing new codes, and some how, he was pretty sure he'd have to end up writing another one for John in the next couple of days or at least adding different sorts of entertainment into the existing one. Hell, he already had to work on the code producing the cell. He didn't need the Warden logging into that.

"If he is okay with it, I would have no problems allowing you in on the sessions, but he may want his privacy to be honored."

"Yeah, we'll leave it up to him. Now, why is Ronon here?"

She smiled at him, "I believe you know that someone is trying to harm John through your system."

"Yeah, that became obvious when no one else showed up in the infirmary from idiotic mistakes."

She nodded slowly, sadly, "When you gave me the news that there was the ability to watch John's memories, I instantly thought that we could view John's memory of the night of the attack. It may lead to finding the young boy or, at the very least, reducing John's sentence."

Rodney was about to respond when his cell phone went off. He answered it instantly, only because the prison complex was the only place with his number. Everyone else called his house phone because there was actually a chance of him answering that one. Before the whole situation with John, he never answered his cell phone. Just let it run through to voicemail, listened to that and then decided whether it was worth going in for.

"Dr. McKay? This is Laura…"

"Yes, yes, and why are you calling me?"

"Dr. Beckett told me to contact you first if anything were to happen to 7589."

"Oh God, what the hell happened now?"

"I was called to treat some minor electric burns, when I returned I chased off a man who had a computer connected to 7589's system. He was dressed like a guard, but he wasn't wearing the badge."

"Shit. Okay, I'll be over there in a moment. Call Carson."

"Yes, sir. I was instructed to call him right after you."

"Good. Is the computer still connected?"

"Yes sir. I haven't touched it."

"Good, don't." He flipped the phone shut as he grabbed Teyla's arm. "Come on, you're coming with me. You, Ronon, stay here. Hopefully my camera's caught the man's face so I can send you after him."

Rodney growled as he read the computer that was still connected and untouched as Teyla watched over his shoulder and Carson began checking over John. "The bastard changed the environment while John was still connected. Fuck. Carson, keep a close eye on him. I'm going to have to go in there and log him out slowly, one fucking piece at a time. When he comes to, he's going to be disoriented and possible scared shitless, I sure as hell would be. You, Carla… Laura, that laptop has the feeds from the camera, if you get a good view of his face send it to my home fax then call the number Teyla's gonna give you. Teyla, give her your husband's number and then you're coming in with me. I doubt he's going to trust me after that."

He was actually proud of the group since they instantly got moving and both Teyla and him were hooked up and ready to go within minutes. "Okay, listen, don't log in like you usually do. I'm gonna do it for both of us. Got it?"

She nodded and then both of them were in. He didn't even get a chance to open his eyes before he heard the sounds of skin hitting skin and a young voice begging, pleading for it to stop. Then he opened his eyes to the vision of younger John overlapping John, both naked and that damn uncle from the previous memory.

"Fuck," Rodney hissed as Teyla gasped, out of the corner of his eye he saw one of her hands covering her mouth and the other around her middle. The minute he grabbed John's wrist he began shutting down the environment, pulling the man towards Teyla as the hell began to shimmer away and the scrubs John wore in the infirmary began to form.

Teyla wrapped her arms around John almost instantly, pulling him close while demanding, "What did you do?"

"I-I began the shut down process. The first step is the environment, then I would normally begin to shut down the sensory connections. I mean, with a normal disconnect, it's all happens quickly in that succession but since all of those codes were changed while he was connected, I need to do a complete shut down."

"How did this happen?" She had gone down to John's level, rubbing his back as he tried to calm down.

"I don't know. They must have known that the memories could be recalled. Fuck, someone must have been able to get access to the codes. I-it would only take ten minutes to change my codes to this if they knew that it could. All they would have to do was change my restrictions and requirements, not write new ones. You need to calm him down so I can finish the shut down process. I can't finish it with him in this state."

"John? John, it's me, Teyla. Can you tell me what you were doing before this?"

Rodney watched as he nodded, pulling away from Teyla into himself. "I was…" A deep breath and Teyla mumbled a soft good, now out, "I was playing a video game, I'm not complainin', but something a bit more fun might be nice… and then I was in the bedroom, the same damn one but Todd was there. You! Why the hell did you do that?"

Rodney held his hands up, trying to look innocent and not worth attacking. He hadn't shut down the touch sensory yet, and a side effect of being able to feel like you're actually touching something was to also feel the pain and he'd had a lifetime worth of black eyes as a child… and fuck, John had felt that again.

"It was not him, John. Someone else changed the codes. Did you feel any pain before the sudden change in setting?" She asked quietly, attempting to control his anger by changing the subject. They could deal with that issue when he was safely disconnected.

"M-my eyes, they burned." He mumbled, and fuck. Fuck, that was bad. After the morons had adjusted the visual connections, that may end up being too much stress on the poor guy's eyes.

And he could hear the guy gasping for air while he tried to shut down the taste sensors, because that was the least important one. Wasn't needed to keep the guy calm. He'd have to do the visual sensors last but there were still long minutes while the shutdown completed. Long minutes of nothing, and to a guy who was striving to get too much air in his lungs, those minutes surrounded in complete darkness might prove too much.

"Fuck, Teyla, calm him down, we can discuss all of that after we get him out of here," he hissed, trying to figure out what steps would be next. Smell, of course, was next, he didn't actually think there was anything to smell. Teyla had logged in under him, with him, so the usual smell he had associated with her, and consequently added to her virtual persona, wasn't here. Hopefully, John wasn't one of those people who found the smell of Teyla's shampoo and body wash to be calming. Rodney wasn't about to admit that he was one of those. Was it his fault he found the natural scents relaxing? No, it was better than the sharp chemical smell of most. Then what, after smell? Touch and hearing. And he had no idea which one proved to be the most calming.

He watched as Teyla rested her forehead against John's, instructing John to follow her breathing. Then there was silence, and John seemed to be breathing correctly which hopefully was a sign of him calming down and not Carson doing something out in the real world like injecting sedatives or whatever he used to treat panic attacks. Because, Christ, he had forgotten that Carson was standing over all three of them, able to see John hyperventilating.

So, hearing was going next, right after he shut down smell. Hopefully, he was correct about touch being more important to the shaking man because he couldn't undo it. He couldn't turn it back on. "Okay, John, you have to listen to me. Teyla, tell him to listen to me because this is very, very important. Hell, you need to listen to me too because we don't need either of you freaking out. Okay? Okay, I have to shut down all of the sensors first and then there will be a few moments of nothing while it completely shuts down the system connected to John. It'll be five, ten minutes at the most, so no freaking out in that time. I mean, hell, if it'll keep you calm you can talk to yourself, I don't know how it'll help since you can't hear it and nobody else can but…"

"We understand, Dr. McKay. We are ready."

"Okay, okay, good…" Then suddenly his voice was gone as he began shutting down that sensor. He couldn't hear anything, but he could still see Teyla, with her head resting against Johns, rubbing his back and her lips still moving as her back stiffened with the stifling silence.

Then touch was gone and he could see John tense up, watched the way the muscles bunched up under the thing scrub top, saw Teyla's hand falter, stilling almost instantly before starting up just as fast. And fuck, he could see John's back shake has he struggled to breath normally, could see the way Teyla tried to keep her breathing regular.

There was nothing he could do now, except finish the process as quickly and safely as possible.

Then every thing went black as the visual connection shut down and he wished that there had been some other way so he could see if that had hurt the man, to see if that could stop John from ever having to be forced to log back into his God forsaken invention.

After a few long minutes, he was opening his eyes only to see Teyla's bronze face, pale as she tried to calm down and, fuck, Carson was busy over John, pulling the thin, shaking man onto his side as he threw up.

Then his eyes fell onto the Warden who stood in the doorway, glaring at all five of the people occupying the room. Hell, what kind of nerve did he have glaring at John who was shaking so bad that Carson was fucking injecting a sedative? "What have you done?" The man demanded, rushing up to Rodney who was busy doing his own damn shaking.

"What the hell do you mean, what have I done? I just saved that man's life, that's what I've done."

"I want him hooked back up this instant!"

"No! Depending on what the required test results say, he may never be able to be hooked back up!"

"I don't care, hook him back up. He is too dangerous to be left awake!"

"Are you that fucking stupid? Does it look like that's my problem? No, it's not. My Job is to manage my system and the safety of those connected to it. I don't give a damn whether he's dangerous or not; he's not being connected again until all of the test have been run, and before you open you idiotic mouth, that's not happening until he has calmed down enough for them to be safely conducted. And if you have someone else forcefully hook him back up to it, I will have charges brought up against you because you are aware of the dangers and every damn state department and some federal, have copies of my numerous reports concerning 7589's condition and your refusal to transfer him. Now, now that decision may be out of your hands because if the tests prove that it is too dangerous for him to be connected again, then he won't be. Does your small, childish brain understand that?"

"Dr. McKay, please breath." Teyla's voice came from beside him, and he was pretty sure she had the right idea because his chest was burning, "Mr. Sherwood, Dr. Beckett and myself also advise against rashly reconnecting him. I assure you, John will be of no trouble while the tests are being conducted. And both of our reports on the current situation will be sent to the review board regardless of the results-"

"Why are you calling him by his name, his number is-"

"I am their therapist; I know all of them by their preferred names. 8654 goes by Joseph, 7164 prefers Donny instead of his given name of Donald. Would you like me to go on? Please, do not assume to understand my practices. Also, as I'm sure you know, it is rude to interrupt someone who is speaking; please refrain from doing so in our future conversations."

Honestly, it was a stupid man who pissed Teyla off. "I want him hooked back up as soon as possible and I expect there to be no problems from 7589."

Thankfully, the warden turned around and left with his tail between his legs and Rodney felt safe enough to try standing. He hated the shutdown process; it was too slow and unnerving. "Carson, is he aware enough to ask some questions about his eyesight. That's the main concern right now due to the previous problems. His other senses may be a bit off for the next few days due to the sudden change in environment but they should correct themselves in the next few days."

"Aye," Carson mumbled, his attention still focused intently on John. "Son, how's your vision?"

"Blurry," came the mumbled reply, made complete with drooping eyes.

"Okay, well, get some rest and we'll worry about that in the morning."

Rodney was glad John just nodded his head and let his eyes drift shut; if he had asked whether it was permanent… anything they said could possibly be a lie. Until all the proper tests were conducted, they couldn't know and that pissed him off. It pissed him off that all of his requests for John to be transferred had been denied so now there was a risk of the man being permanently blind.

"Why don't you all go and get some rest?" He had forgotten that Laura was there, standing in the background, the only person who wasn't aware of the conspiracy to help John. "I won't leave his side this time. Due to the current situation, no one can order me to leave so I'll stay here until the three of you return for your shifts."

"Thank you, love." Carson mumbled, patting her shoulder, "I'll ask Carol to bring you coffee through out the night."

Rodney walked into the quiet infirmary to find Teyla and Carson already there, sitting around a still sleeping John who had a frightening amount of monitors and leads connected to him. He hadn't even been aware that the infirmary had all that equipment. Carson turned to give him a soft smile, "His body suffered quite a shock yesterday so I'm not sure when he'll wake up."

Rodney nodded, eyeing John, "that's fine, I don't need him awake to run some of the tests."

"Well, Teyla's going to stay here until he wakes up. She needs to speak to him when he's up, so I'll leave you two alone while I'll go and do my rounds. Call me if anymore problems arise."

He nodded at Carson, merely to acknowledge that he had heard him as he connected his computer to the device resting beside John and began to power it up. He needed to read through the diagnostic for any warnings or errors. When this whole fiasco was finished, he'd fix the programming so that no one could ignore the warnings. He'd make it so no one could screw it up on purpose or accident. To be honest, he should have done that before, but he had previously wanted to allow them to be bypassed in case, by some oddity, it was required.

It was a few hours later when he caught the sight from the corner of his eye of Teyla straightening her pose and then there was a grunt from John. "Good morning, John. How are you feeling today?"

He was sure that therapist had to go through some form of acting classes since she went from a woman who looked like she hadn't slept the night before to a softly smiling, and well rested woman in an instant.

"Tired."

"That is to be expected after the events you suffered through yesterday. I have a few things I need to discuss with you, but they may wait until you have had something to drink. Would you like to sit up?"

John nodded and tried to push himself up but only managed to when Teyla wrapped an arm around his back and shoulders and pulled him up herself. "Is this… am I?"

"You are not connected to the system at this moment. There are quite a few tests that need to be run before you can safely be reconnected." She kept her hand wrapped firmly around the cup she placed into John's trembling hand, making sure it was not dropped on him.

"It… feels funny, wrong." John mumbled to himself before bringing it to his lips.

"Yes, that is to be expected as well. It will pass in a few days. It is a result of the system being shutdown while we were logged in. I find that the water tastes sweeter than normal, is it the same for you?"

It had affected all of them, probably less severely than John, but it had taken Rodney a full hour to find a set of clothes that didn't feel like they were scratching his skin off. It looked as if Teyla had found a similar issue; it would explain why she was wearing clothing that looked almost casual rather than her very professional pant suits.

"Tastes bitter," John mumbled but continued to drink it.

Teyla nodded, placing the cup back on the side table when John allowed her to. "Why did you tell no one of your uncle?"

Rodney didn't need to be able to see John tense up at the question, he could hear the results in the increased beeping of the heart monitor. "It's the past, wasn't important."

"It may have allowed you to have received a lighter sentence." Teyla murmured softly, her hand resting gently on John's hand.

"Since no one believed my defense, it sure as hell wouldn't have." John growled, yanking his hand away from hers. "It's in the past, I got over it and I don't want to talk about it."

"Did you truly get over it, John? If your defense was true, it is highly likely that you blacked out during the attack after witnessing a man committing the same crime that you suffered through as a child."

"I didn't black out; I was hit in the head. The medical reports state that, Teyla. Doesn't matter anyways, I nearly killed a man so I'm serving my sentence."

"Very well, we will not speak of that for the moment. Do you remember anything else during the night that you were accused of attacking your commanding officer?"

"Other than what was in my defense? No, it's just blurred images. Why? I don't plan on appealing my conviction. You know, my grandmother may still be fighting it but…"

"It is my job to help you, a part of that includes understanding the crime you were convicted of, John. The ability of the system to allow the viewing of memories is a new discovery. I wish to ask you permission to attempt to view your memory of that night if we are able to connect you to the system once more."

"If you want to, go for it. Don't see how it's going to help since it's not all there."

"It will help many things. It will also help to find the young man who was attacked and, at the very least, we may be able to see if he is healthy."

John merely shrugged his shoulders, then actually nodded his head after another moment of silence. "Thank you, John. Dr. McKay wishes to be allowed to as well, to ensure there are no complication."

"Why not, he's seen the worse of it already. We'll make it a damn party."

"John…" Teyla began but John shook his head and glared weakly at her.

"I've already given the two of you permission to jump into my brain, which would have been a wonderful choice to have before, so don't expect anything else from me."

"As you wish," Teyla said, reaching her hand out once more to grasp John's hand, "Is your eyesight still blurred today?"

It hadn't seemed like it was possible, but John seemed to tense up more at that question with his teeth digging into his bottom lip. "Yeah, yeah. It's a bit better than yesterday but… I can't really see any details on your face."

Rodney sighed, shaking his head there were a few warnings and errors under the visual connections but it seemed like he could fix them. "Well, if it's slightly better today then it's likely that you'll be lucky enough to return to your previous state. I can't be positive, Carson will run the tests that'll say whether your eyesight will recover completely but at least the chances have improved in your favor."

John merely nodded his head at that, turning his head to stare at the white walls,w hich probably was the only thing in the room that didn't remind him of his damaged eyesight.

Rodney sighed softly as John's eyes slipped shut, signaling that he was safely logged back into the system. "Okay, right now he is in a room that resembles where the attack took place. I got it as close as I could, so when we log in, the memory should begin. I don't know where it'll start but…" He let out a sigh before shaking his head, "You ready, Teyla?"

She nodded her head, smiling softly at him. He let out another sigh before he began logging them in. He was actually surprised to open his eyes to see two Johns. "Huh, I thought we'd have to pull you out like the past two times."

"Yeah, well, I figured I didn't have to follow. It worked."

Rodney nodded and turned his attention toward an actually smiling John, who was waving at a petite woman sitting behind a nearly empty desk. "Good evening, John. Can I help you?"

"You leaving, Sherri?" John asked, smiling as he leaned against her desk.

She gave a short, high pitched laugh, running her bone thin fingers through her already disheveled hair before nodding, "I was already gone but I forgot my phone. I actually made it to my apartment before I realized. Do you need to see Colonel Gennings?"

"You're gonna have to start tying that phone to you, you know?" He shook his head, smiling at her, "Yeah, he said he had something to discuss with me and to come see him as soon as I could, so…"

"Well, I think he's still in. He said he would probably be in late when I left so go on in. He'll probably welcome the distraction from his pile of paperwork."

"Thanks Sherri, have a nice night."

"You too, John."

John watched her leave, smiling and waving at her until she was out of sight before turning to walk down the hallway to his C.O.'s office. They all watched as John's face creased in confusion, stopping and listening for a second before a strange sound repeated itself. Then he was moving quickly, opening the door without knocking, his mouth opened to say something, probably ask if everything was okay but he froze, his hand tense on the doorknob.

All they saw was the Colonel holding someone against the wall; everything else was darkened, nearly blacked out, memories were odd that way, never truly correct. John's rage filled voice broke Rodney out of his thoughts, almost making him jump. "Hey! Stop!"

He yanked the surprised Colonel off of a young teenage boy who seemed to be frozen with fear, scooting away from the Colonel as soon as he could. John's fist easily connected with Genning's face before the man could react, but that was it and the Colonel gave back exactly what he got, causing John to stagger forward then everything went black for a moment. Seconds of silence passed then the darkness was replaced with a blurry scene. Everything other than John was nothing but blotches of color.

As John pushed himself to his knees, hanging his head, things began to focus. The first thing was the Colonel's prone body; the only sound in the room was John's muttered, "oh fuck," then suddenly there was blood slipping down John's face as he touched the back of his head.

It took a few moments, then suddenly an airman walked into the room and just as suddenly the air was filled with yelling and John fell backwards, onto his ass and rested his head against the wall.

"See, I told you there was nothing here," their John muttered, his hands stuffed into his pockets as his head hung.

"That is not true, John. We now know-"

"Wait!" Rodney yelled and forced the scene to freeze, his eyes darting around the room.

"Dr. McKay, I detest being int-" Teyla began but Rodney was in no mood to listen to one of her lectures.

"Being interrupted, I know, I know. It's very rude. The fucking bat is missing."

"What?" John asked, jerking around to face him. "What bat?"

"The one that was in the glass case, it's missing!"

"What? It probably rolled under the desk or something. What the hell does it matter if a bat is missing?"

"No, look, the glass is over there, it would have rolled towards the wall if it rolled any where. Teyla, didn't they find wood in both the Colonel and John's head wounds?"

"What the hell does that matter?" John hissed, but Rodney ignored him, instead he watched as Teyla nodded her head slowly, hopefully catching onto where he was going.

"Of course they did. John, I don't think you did more than punch him. Oh my God, I'm a genius. I don't think they even bothered to investigate it since they had you there and the Colonel accused you once he finally woke up. And, plus, you basically confessed to it when you claimed that he had attacked that kid. Ronon has to find that kid and then you'll be cleared!"

"What?" John questioned, and maybe if Rodney wasn't feeling so proud of himself he might have noted the shocked tone to John's voice.

"You can't possibly be that stupid. Pilots have to have some sort of a brain, don't they? They wouldn't put idiots in their expensive toys. Put it together, John."

"Dr. McKay, that is enough!" Teyla barked, before gently resting her hand on John's shoulder. "John, what Dr. McKay is failing to say, is that it is highly probable that the young man is the one who truly attacked Colonel Gennings. You were most likely struck in the head as an accident with the Colonel's bat."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh," Rodney said, turning to beam at Teyla, "this means that John's conviction will be overturned, if your husband can find the kid. And hell, what self respecting D.A. would bring charges against a kid who was almost raped."

"I think I need to sit down," John mumbled as he stumbled backwards, resting against a wall.

"You're lying down," Teyla shot him a glare, and it seemed like a good idea to stop right there. He probably had already pissed her off tonight. "Okay, all right, just take a deep breath and I'll have us all logged out."

Rodney was getting tired to opening his eyes to the sight of the Warden glaring down at him. "Seriously, don't you have something better to do than stalk me?" He demanded as he stood up, only sparing a glance at Carson holding a waste basket under John's mouth. "Before you bother wasting your breath, yes, that test went well, but as you can see, there is some slight physical issues to fix since it is highly abnormal for a person to empty their stomach after being logged in for less than thirty minutes. So, if you will go and let me read the diagnostic, it might go a bit quicker."

He didn't even bother to see if the Warden left or not. He really didn't care, the diagnostic was looking promising. If he could adjust the visual connection correctly, then, hopefully, John wouldn't wake up puking.

Though, if he had his way, John would be free of this place before he had to be reconnected. Unfortunately, he rarely got his way without a nearly impossible amount of work, and even then, it was still a toss up on which way it would go. Unless it was scientific, then he had it from the beginning.

He looked up just in time to see Teyla placing a hand on John's forehead before whispering, "all will be well, John. I must go home now."

He jumped up almost instantly, dropping the laptop on the table. "I'm going with her. Carson, keep an eye on John."

Carson nodded but Rodney was pretty sure Carson would be hounding him for details tomorrow at lunch. Which was perfectly fine with him, he rather enjoyed boasting about his accomplishments and finding that someone was more than likely innocent was one hell of an accomplishment that even his sister would be proud of.

Ronon was already inside his apartment when he reached it, which would have been slightly discerning if he hadn't suddenly remembered that his wallet and ID was in his locker at the complex. He'd have to have Carson bring it to him later or it would be hell to get back in.

"Please tell me you have a folder of everyone connected to Colonel Gennings, because statistically…"

"I know the statistics, McKay." Ronon grunted, passing him a folder from the top of the pile. "The first thing I did was gather that information."

"Good, good. I knew Teyla wouldn't marry a complete idiot." He mumbled as he fell down onto his couch, instantly spreading the papers in the file across his table.

"Ronon, Dr. McKay noticed a bat missing from the memory. Was there any information concerning it?" Teyla questioned as she handed a cup of coffee to Rodney, studying the pictures laid out before her.

"Yeah, his insurance paid out a thousand for some baseball memorabilia." The man turned away from them for a second, digging through his… something that may have somehow been related to a briefcase in another life, possibly the prehistoric era, before producing a file and reading from it. "Some of cards and a signed bat. Claimed they were stolen from his office, was filed about a week after he was released from the hospital."

"That's interesting." He mumbled, pushing at a piece of paper to reveal the Colonel's youngest son. "Wait, who is this kid?"

"The son's best friend at the time. From what I can gather, they were seen everywhere together until about two months after the Colonel was released then he distanced himself from him. Got involved in a lot of school activities, didn't have much time to spend with the Colonel's kid after that."

"That is the child the Colonel attacked, Ronon." Teyla said, her eyes locked on the picture, "Have you already spoken to him?"

"The parents refused to let me. Figured I'd talk to him after they calmed down. I can try to corner him tomorrow."

"Do not frighten the child, Ronon." Rodney watched as the giant of a man visibly deflated at Teyla's words.

"I wasn't planning on it." Ronon grumbled, gathering the papers back up.

"I wonder if he knows someone was convicted for what he did…" Rodney mumbled.

"Doesn't matter." Ronon said, literally falling down on Rodney's poor couch; it creaked and cracked and popped under the force.

"Of course it-"

"If he does? That make him a bad kid, McKay? Or a scared kid? What does it change? Nothing, so it doesn't matter."

The last time Rodney saw John logging out of his system was with everyone who'd fought to help him, surrounding him. He was glad he had fixed all the issues with John's system so he didn't have to watch the slender man puke again.

"You are being transferred, John." Teyla said, the first person to step closer to his bed with a huge smile.

"Why?"

"They're wrapping up a few loose ends before they release you." Rodney said, and he might actually be beaming at John.

"Releasing me?"

"Were you sleeping when we logged you out? Yes, releasing you. The convictions been overturned."

"Why?"

Rodney glared at him, crossing his arms before turning his glare towards Teyla, "You didn't tell him!"

"I believed it unwise to raise his hopes." Rodney wasn't going to question her defense even if it smelled of bullshit to him.

"Guys?" John croaked as he forced himself into a sitting position.

"Oh, oh yes. Forgot about you for a moment. The kid you saved? His name is Ryan, by the way; well, he confessed to attacking Colonel Asshole. The kid didn't use his brain so he figured you hadn't gotten in trouble. Actually, he's apparently having quite a few sessions with Teyla these days since he kept the bat with him, to hit Gennings with if he ever came near him again."

"I don't want the kid in trouble."

"This is also why I thought it would be better not to tell John. Do not worry; there will be no charges filed against Ryan since it can be viewed as self defense. As it has been explained to me, Ryan saw you stumbling after the first hit and figured you would not win a fight with Mr. Gennings. When he ran, he believed that you would be thought of as a victim of the same attacker. He deeply regrets that you were imprisoned for saving him."

"Why'd you log me out now instead of when I was free to go?"

"Because then you'd have to spend a few weeks in the hospital instead of a few weeks in a prison infirmary. I mean, when I designed the damn thing, it wasn't for continuous use. When I sold my soul to the U.S. Military, I was under the belief that it would be for day time use and they would be logged out for various events, such as sleep. They didn't like that, and now, as you can see with your shaking arms, you're a bit on the weak side."

Rodney wasn't happy to be woken by knocking on his door on his rare day off. So, he was glaring at the world in general when he opened the front door only to see Teyla and Ronon standing there, and John sitting in a wheel chair holding a cup holder full of what looked, and smelled, like coffee.

"Carson's released him," Ronon grunted as he began pushing John in, who was glaring at the man. "I got permission to tie him to this if he tried to get up." It should have seemed odd that Ronon made that sound like it could be a fun sport.

"Oh." Rodney mumbled, stepping out of the way before Ronon ran him over; he seemed like the kind of man who wouldn't stop just because someone was in the way. "Yeah, forgot. I need to watch you for any long-term side effects."

"Shouldn't Carson do that?" John asked, looking around, eyeing the odd things that Rodney had forgotten to put into the simulation of his apartment that he had put in John's reality.

"Yeah, he should, but he already spent his vacation time."

"You know," John said, turning his head to face Teyla, "I could have gotten a hotel room until I found an apartment."

"Shall I repeat what Carson said? If you do not agree to be constantly supervised until they can see no more side effects, you would be admitted into a hospital."

"I could just walk out of a hospital," John grumbled.

"And risk the chance of another seizure?" Teyla's hand pressed against John's shoulder.

"Seizure? When did he start having seizures?" Rodney demanded.

Ronon shrugged, taking a cup from John before sitting himself down on the couch, "Beckett thinks whoever was trying to fuck John up in the complex was doing it at the other facility as well."

"There were traces of an unknown drug in his system after he suffered his first seizure." Teyla answered, handing a cup to Rodney before his hands could start moving.

"And none of you thought I might need to know this?"

"Nope." Ronon grinned up at him until Teyla shot him a look.

"Great. And if someone is after a wheelchair bound John here, what am I going to do about that?"

"Ronon will be keeping an eye on the two of you until he solves it."

"I use to be a bodyguard."

"Yes, well, you look like a bodyguard." Rodney grumbled, giving Ronon an odd look, "So, seizures are due to someone doping John up? Any other side effects and why is he in a wheelchair?"

"Dr. Beckett does not wish for him to strain himself."

"So," Rodney mumbled, scratching his head as he looked around his rather dirty apartment. Teyla had explained it to him, some psycho babble about something or not. He really wasn't interested in wasting his time remembering the words for why he felt his apartment needed to be cleaned to have a guest who would be spending most of his time in bed, recuperating because one week was just not enough time in a hospital to recover from what basically equaled an induced medical coma, even if you added in the time spent in a prison infirmary.

Though, they didn't really have a choice. Well, he did, in all honesty, because he could have said 'fuck it, I don't care' and let them try to put John somewhere else that might be semi-safe but Ronon had been right. No one would think Rodney would be stashing him at his apartment. Why would he?

So, for a little while both of them would be under a very thin veil. Until whoever was desperately trying to kill John put the pieces together. Hopefully, by then, John would be well enough to actually move without that God forsaken wheelchair.

"Uhm." John mumbled back, aggravating Rodney a bit because what right did John have to be mumbling when he refused to finish acting the part and keep his eyes locked on his hands instead of taking in the coffee cups lining the counter that were probably growing and thick as molasses.

"Uh, I didn't have time to clean, not really anyways. I'm a very busy man and..."

"Don't worry about it, McKay." John mumbled before finally turning his face towards Rodney.

"Yes, well, I suggest not touching anything unless you're wearing a serious layer of protection because in your current state, anything could kill you, you know? And I'm not going to be yelled at by Carson because I need a maid." He let out a deep sigh, "Well, I'll call someone in tomorrow to clean up the brunt of it while Carson's over making sure your muscles work correctly."

"It's fine, McKay, really. You don't have to do anything. I don't usually get sick so..."

"Well, you aren't normally hooked up to my system for a year, basically in a coma and being fed through a tube. So, if you don't mind, we'll listen to Carson. Uhm, do you want to go to bed or watch TV or something. Carson said you'd be tired and Teyla said you passed out in the middle of the car ride." Rodney let his eyes fall down on John and tried really hard to stifle the gasp, to keep on rambling instead of stopping suddenly.

But there were deep bruises around the man's thin, defined neck. He'd known that someone had tried to suffocate John. Both Teyla and Carson had sat down and explained it to him; told him that a nurse had rushed into John's room and the man had rushed out, leaving John gasping for air. They even told him John's voice would be weak and rough for a few days, but knowing oppose to seeing was a different thing all together. Completely different because the sight of the bruising left his own throat hurting, feeling stripped and raw.

"Uhm, or maybe, maybe you'd like something to drink for... you know..." He watched as John just shook his head, hands falling down onto the wheels of the chair.

"No, nah. I just want to lay down if that's okay."

"Yeah, yeah, that's fine. Come on, I actually got the guest room cleaned... or, well, Teyla helped a lot. And Ronon. He threw a lot of the junk in there out. So, it should be comfortable."

"Thanks, McKay."

Rodney jerked awake when he heard a strangled scream. For a moment, he was able to convince himself that it was the TV in John's room, that everything was okay, and allow himself to slide back into the restful sleep but then he jerked awake again, realizing he had forgotten to move a working TV into there. His feet hit the ground before he even figured out what he planned on doing if someone was in his home, attacking a man who barely had the strength to sit up straight. It didn't really matter, he had to check no matter what so he grabbed his fucking umbrella because that was the only thing he owned that might work. He sure as hell wasn't about to use one of his laptops as a weapon.

And fuck, wasn't Ronon supposed to be keeping an eye out for this kind of shit? Wasn't he suppose to be making sure no one broke into his damn apartment. Hell, the whole reason of this insanity was because it was supposed to take the criminals a while to figure it out and Teyla guilt-tripped him into it. She gave him a look when he had instantly said no because it was different to help someone hooked up to his invention and to house someone who apparently has a hit against them.

Screw Teyla's looks and her 'I know you are a good person' bull. If he managed to beat off the attacker, he was shipping John off to live with Ronon and Teyla because at least those two had the skills to protect him. Hell, they probably had a bat to beat intruders off instead of his wimpy umbrella that the wind destroyed every time he used it.

And how the hell did someone by-pass his state of the art security system?

He stopped dead in his tracks, the umbrella held precariously above his head, when he slammed John's door open only to find no one in there. He wouldn't admit to anyone else that it took him a full minute to realize that not even John was in there. It took him another minute to realize that there was a light on in the bathroom, and, God, please let him be in there because Teyla could beat him into a bloody pulp with her pinky, and would if he managed to lose the spiky haired ex-major.

Despite his hopes that John was in the bathroom, he pushed the door open slowly with the tip of the umbrella and nearly screamed when he saw John bent over the damn toilet. "Oh my God, how did you get in here? Where's your chair?" He demanded instead of trying to figure out a decent, tactful way to ask about the scream.

There were no obvious signs of injury on John's trembling body or a break in so that meant the scream came from John. Probably a dream. He'd need to figure out how to ask about it later, needed to know the side effects. He needed to know if it effected his mind.

Or maybe he could pass that off to Carson and save himself the awkwardness. That's what he would do. Carson would know how to approach that with a sense of tact.

"Walked," John mumbled in response, leaning his head against the toilet seat then his whole body shook as he heaved, except it was dry and painful sounding. "Didn't eat enough apparently."

The last part was weak, tired and despite the small twinge in Rodney's gut, he was glad that nothing had managed to come out because he would have to help John back to bed, no matter what and it was better done without the God awful smell.

"You're not supposed to be walking. That's why that awful contraption known as a wheelchair is by your bed. Come on, up. I'll bring a trashcan in so you can dry heave into that. Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Would you mind if I moved to the couch?" John asked as he looked up at Rodney, his eyes red with either exhaustion or the dry puking, "So I can do something other than stare at the ceiling?"

"Nausea and insomnia, did Carson tell you if those were side effects of the pharmacy-in-a-bag Teyla brought for you?"

"Don't know, didn't ask. Haven't taken them either."

"Didn't take… Oh my God, stupidity is a side effect! For crying out loud, why haven't you taken what Carson gave you… of all the stupid, idiotic-"

"Relax McKay, I went to sleep. I forgot."

"You forgot? You forgot? That's worse than deliberately not taking it!"

"I went to sleep an hour after the last dose, McKay. I wasn't due for anymore until five hours later. I slept through it; I'm sure Dr. Beckett would approve of me getting rest."

"Fine, fine. Whatever. Let's get you to the couch so you can rot your brain out with television and get you your medication. Carson will be able to tell if the nausea and insomnia is a side effect of not taking the medicine or being hooked up to the system for that long. Or, oh hell, the damage done when the morons screwed around…"

"I'm not suffering from insomnia, McKay."

"You just said you were staring at the ceiling!"

"After I woke up because I didn't want to disturb you."

"But the scream…"

"I fell back to sleep, had a bad dream. That's it, McKay."

Rodney nodded his head and didn't plan on saying anything else except his mouth was already moving before he could stop it, "The dream, was it… did it…" A deep breath, then a sigh, it wasn't like he could stop now that he already started, "do you think it was caused by my system."

John turned to face him completely, leaning his back against the cool porcelain tub. "No, it didn't."

"But, the screa-"

"It brought the details back but that's it. A lot of things could have done the same. I got over it a long time ago, McKay."

"Obviously not, or you wouldn't have-"

"Protected a kid from a monster? I like to think I would have no matter what happened in my past."

Rodney nodded at that, finally reaching down to grab John. "Ronon says the kid is relatively okay thanks to you. I don't know if he told you or not, but apparently that was the first attempt so the kid was scared but not… anyways, he keeps a bat by his bed and a knife in his pocket but he didn't, he didn't become a statistic. Teyla talked to him, said he was a well adjusted person or something despite the need for a bat."

"That's good; I'm glad he's good."

"Obviously, you weren't a statistic either so, that's good as well, I guess. I mean, you mostly aren't one."

"Mostly?"

"You forgot to take your meds, that is not a sign of a well adjusted adult."

"Opposed to?"

Rodney gave him a look, something between a glare and a smirk which turned into a smile when John laughed, smiling widely. "Come on, let's get you to that couch. It's a decent one; I mean, no couch is really comfortable but this one is better than most."

"How's your throat feeling?" Carson asked as he manhandled John's head into another position, eyeing the bruises.

"Sore." John mumbled, raising his eyes to the ceiling.

"He was up trying to puke his lungs out last night," Rodney said, watching the way John's knuckles whitened around the cushion when Carson began to poke at the deep bruising.

"Well, then, you're lucky you can still talk, son. Any other symptoms I should know about?"

"Nope, doc." John said, turning his head a bit so he could smile down at Carson.

"Well, nothing else seems to be wrong then. Your strength should return steadily as long as you keep up with the medication and get enough rest. Don't over do it."

"Like, crawling to the bathroom in the middle of the night, per say?" Rodney asked, smirking when John glared at him.

"I didn't want to wake you up, McKay."

"Why do you keep calling McKay? My name is Rodney."

"Habit."

"Well, I guess it's better than you calling me Mr. McKay."

"I don't think I could keep a straight face if I called you mister."

"Boys." Carson said, bringing their attention to him. "How about we get John some food. He should be able to stomach some decent food now. Don't think I didn't notice the way you pushed your food around in the hospital. I honestly don't blame you; their food was worse than most. But I want you eating now, you were military, you know how important it is to keeping your strength up."

"Yes, sir."

"Now, I'm no sir, John. Now, I brought Italian. Nothing too spicy but not bland either."

John leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed as he eyed the room full of people. "Look, I can walk now so I can get my own room somewhere…"

"As if," Rodney barked; he was getting annoyed with repeating himself. Honestly, he wasn't sure why he was doing it now; he usually refused to wase his breath. Maybe it was because he knew it was due to John's stubborn head, rather than stupidity – though that could be argued. "You're not leaving until Ronon figures out who the hells trying to kill you. I refuse to have my time wasted, that includes time spent on you so, you stay. I'll have Teyla tie you down."

"As if she would."

"Ronon then. I know he would."

"Ronon will do no such thing, Rodney." Teyla spoke up, shooting him a small glare before turning it on Ronon who looked suitably subdued. "John, we ask you to stay here for a little longer, none of us wish to see you harmed farther."

Rodney couldn't stop the laugh when John pouted, actually pouted as if that would help his case anymore. As if. It may work on him a little bit, but Teyla seemed like the kind of woman who wouldn't let a child get away with that, much less a grown adult.

"I'm a trained soldier, Dr. Dex-"

"My name is Teyla, John. I do not find it a suitable sign of respect to use my surname. I consider you a friend and I hope you would consider me the same."

"Fine, Teyla." He cut the tone as soon as Teyla glared at him, which was smart of him. Because there was no need for Rodney to be having images of Teyla bending John over her knee. None at all. It was completely inappropriate. "I'm a trained soldier, Teyla. I know how to take care of myself."

"That may be so, but you will not be up to your full strength for months to come. Please allow us to assist you as your friends."

"Whatever," John mumbled as he moved to sit on the chair away from the rest of them until Ronon decided he wanted to sit and flopped down right in it. Rodney could almost swear he heard it crack under the force. He watched John turn to make his way towards the other end of the couch that Rodney was sitting on, watched the way his legs held the tiniest tremor as he walked, making it less than obvious that he really wasn't up to walking around or standing up for any amount of time. "So, where are we on my would-be killer?"

Ronon shrugged, leading forward as he pushed at the files that covered Rodney's coffee table. "Well, I think the Colonel hired him but I don't have any direct proof yet. I'll get it, though."

"Why would the Colonel want to kill me while I was connected to the system? He'd already gone scott-fucking-free when I was charged. I mean, no one would have known if he hadn't fucked with it while I was connected. You'd think he'd keep the attention off of me."

"Revenge," Ronon pointed out with a shrug.

"But I thought we'd decided that all I did was punch the fucker."

"That is true, John, but had you not interrupted him, it is most likely that the boy would not have had the courage to fight back. So, in retrospect, he could blame you for his handicaps."

"So, you think he blames me for the kid beating the shit out of him? Shouldn't he have thought about that before he attacked the kid?"

"Yes, it is an inappropriate conclusion, but people are not known for being logical in their anger."

"That's the truth," Rodney mumbled, "guilt too."

"Shut up, McKay." John hissed, "I thought I had gone crazy and nearly killed a guy."

"As if it's sane to feel guilty over that after what he tried to do…"

"Rodney, please, that is neither the issue at hand nor your business."

John smirked at him and he glared back. "So, Colonel Gennings is trying to have me killed because he's stuck at a desk. That's sane and completely reasonable."

"Do you think attempted murder ever has a sane and reasonable motive?"

"McKay," John groaned, rolling his eyes.

"All I have to do is find the link and I'll be able to find who exactly it was that was hired to kill you. He just got out on bail until the trail for the kid, so it shouldn't be too hard to track his finances." Ronon grumbled as he began picking up his files, "Just need to get into them."

"Try his secretary. He should have one and I bet you, between you wooing her and what he's charged with, she'll be more than willing to help you out."

"Ronon will be wooing no one." Teyla said strictly, raising her eyebrows as if in challenge.

"Well, not wooing, technically." John said, trying to fix it.

"I'll look into it," Ronon said, then corrected himself, probably trying to avoid the couch, "with out any wooing."

Rodney was sure Teyla had a torture device as a couch; that was the only reason a giant like Ronon would be cowed by a woman like her.

"So," John mumbled as he stumbled into the nearly dark living room, "why are you doing this?

"Doing what?" Rodney asked, looking up from the paper he was currently demolishing. The light caught the wet spikes of John's hair, dragging his eyes there instead of the lean face.

"Helping me?" He watched as John threw the wet towel over his shoulders, "I'm pretty sure you're not the decent, bleeding heart type."

"Uh," he mumbled, a bit distracted when John fell onto the couch directly beside him instead of at the opposite end like he usually did. "Teyla would beat me up?"

"We both know Teyla wouldn't lay a hand on you."

"Well, she could very well sic Ronon on me. And give me this disappointed look that works better than my own mother's ever did."

"Somehow, I think you'd get over it. You don't strike me as the kind of guy who really gives a damn."

"What do you want?"

"The truth."

"Oh, and what do you figure the truth is?" Rodney asked, sneered actually.

"That I started off as some pet project. Some urge that wasn't suppose to go anywhere other than that one moment."

"Oh, is that how you see it?"

"Mhm. And then you figured out something else."

"And what would that something else be?"

He wasn't expecting John to lean forward, to rest his hand on his thigh as he pressed his lips against Rodney's, smirking slightly before opening his lips.

He was, also, pretty sure John wasn't expecting him to pull back and ask, "will you call me Rodney, now?"

John laughed softly, leaning his forehead against Rodney's before muttering a soft, "Sure," right before Rodney kissed him back, slipping his hand to rest on John's back.

Rodney stumbled into his apartment with the bag of foodies that John had pouted for. By pout he meant stumble towards the door and proclaim that if Rodney didn't go, he would go himself. there might have been mumblings of self pity thrown in there about prisons and hospitals. Admitting that, though, by laughing at him about his pathetic face would mean opening himself up to the fact that he had given into it… actually had been unable to fight it; he was worse than Jeannie when she was five.

He expected to hear loud laughter coming from the general vicinity of the couch when he nearly landed on his face but it was uncomfortably quiet. "John?" He called, dropping the bag of junk food on the counter.

It took him a moment to realize there was a lump on his couch, curled up under a blanket. He was actually surprised that John didn't even jerk when Rodney touched his back, jus turned farther in towards the couch. "John?" He asked again, rubbing gently at the small of his back.

"Hmm," John mumbled out, barely turning to face him, instead, throwing an arm over his head, covering the visible ear and his eyes.

"I got the twenty pounds of junk food you demanded now you're sleeping instead of eating it."

"M' thanks." He watched as John stretched, his back arching, revealing his thin stomach and jutting hip bones before his back cracked, causing John to let out a low moan. "Sorry, took the medicine."

"Yeah, well, you can eat the hot food now and I'll shove the rest of the crap in your room so you can have a midnight snack when you're suppose to be sleeping."

"You know, if you'd stop fighting to keep me here you wouldn't have had to get me that."

"As if I had to do anything; I needed more Cheetos, that's the only reason I went." Rodney tossed the fast food onto John's lap before falling onto the other side of the couch with the said bag of chips. It wasn't even a toss, really, more of a gentle drop with a slight angle. "Anyways, Teyla would have me drive junk food to you. If I dared to tell her no, she'd come knocking on my door with Ronon behind her, cracking his knuckles."

"Baby."

"Cripple," he blurted out without thinking.

He was about to start a rambling apology until he heard John laughing. "This cripple could kick your ass any day. Put Halo on and I'll show you. Again."

"You have an unfair advantage, flyboy."

"Oh yeah? Chess then. Come on, get the board and I'll have you in teas."

Rodney laughed at the smirk that filled John's face, his eyebrows raised high into his forehead.

"You have no idea who you're messing with. You'll be begging for mercy before I'm done with you."

"As if, Rodney mumbled, shaking his head as he moved towards his desk, trying to remember which draw he'd thrown the chess board in. He honestly hadn't used it that much before; actually, he wasn't entirely sure when the last time he used it was. Had to be years ago.

"We could do something else," John mumbled from behind him, causing Rodney to jerk around to face him. "There were a lot of things I didn't get to do in there."

"You haven't even eaten your Jack in the Box junk…" Rodney started until John stepped closer, placing his cold hands on Rodney's hips.

"Mm, I like it better when I have to heat it up."

"That's disgusting." Rodney sneered, making a face at the thought of it and the smell it would cause. He pulled John close despite that though, made it so they were pressing up against each other.

"Well," John mumbled, leaning his face in closer, smirking down at Rodney, "I could go eat it now but I figure this would be more fun."

Rodney nodded his head in agreement, because, really John was right. "Shouldn't we head to the bedroom then?"

"Nope. I think the couch will be fun."

Rodney heard John yell at him right before he heard the sound of a gun going off. It took him a moment to decipher the sounds into words and by then John was repeating himself, pushing Rodney to the ground. "Damn it, McKay, get the fuck down and stay there!"

He went to grab John's wrist but the man was already gone, moving quickly, silently, through the dark living room. He had never been good at listening to orders, not when he didn't want to, so he climbed back to his knees, and looked over the edge of his overturned couch just in time to see John tackle the intruder, the fucking gunman.

The idiot tackled another idiot carrying a gun. He heard John grunt before he heard the gun connecting with John's face and, fuck, he must have hit his head when he'd fallen over the couch because that wasn't the way the sounds were suppose to be coming. They were supposed to come in order.

He grouped around the floor, looking for anything that would pose as a suitable weapon as he watched the intruder flip them over, as John, thankfully, knocked the gun out of both of their reach. His fingers wrapped around the leg of his shattered coffee table at the exact moment the man's fist connected with John's already battered face.

He really wasn't thinking when he got up and stumbled over to the two. If he was, he would have reached for his phone and called Ronon or Teyla or the God damn cops. But he wasn't thinking, so he didn't really take in the fact that John's eyes widened right before he brought the heavy wood down on the attacker's back, and it took him a moment to realize that he had fallen back because he had been kicked and that one of the howls of pain had been his.

He really didn't need to think after that because John took the opportunity and turned them both over so he was on top.

And then Ronon ruined the whole scene by bursting in with his own gun drawn. Or maybe he didn't ruin it, but Rodney wasn't thinking straight so at the moment, he was paying attention to the way the sweat dripped down John's face and the way the muscles in his arms bulged just right as he held the attacker down.

"You couldn't have made it five minutes earlier?" Rodney bitched as he held an icepack to his swollen knee.

"Sorry, McKay," Ronon mumbled, poking at John's multi-colored cheek as they waited for Carson to arrive.

The paramedics stood at the end of the room, glaring at the two. They really hadn't appreciated Rodney's snide comments about his own doctor coming, and he wasn't going to trust two kids who hadn't even gone through voodoo school. He really couldn't find it in him to be bothered about their feelings; both of them had signed their damn forms so there was no sane reason for them to still be here. So, he was glaring right back at them because his head hurt and Ronon had only given him a dishtowel to hold against the back of his head, which was apparently bleeding.

He was glad that Carson didn't bother to knock when he nearly ran into Rodney's apartment, it was very close to a high speed jog, because it amused him to see the two paramedics jump around to face him as he yelled, "What the hell happened here?"

"His would-be killer got caught. In my living room." Rodney barked, shooting a glare in John's general vicinity, "after our favorite moron here decided to take him on. After I hit my head on my destroyed coffee table. You all owe me a new coffee table."

Carson sighed, shaking his head, "we'll make sure it matches the rest of your furniture this time. Did you lose consciousness? Either of you?"

When both of them shook their heads, he sighed and placed his bag on the couch that Ronon had put the right way around again.

John wasn't really being a happy camper, perched on Rodney's couch, glaring at everyone as he held one ice pack to his face and another on Rodney's outstretched knee. He was actually pretty pissed. But Rodney put that down to being denied his sex since last night, no matter what position they tried, Rodney's knee just wouldn't behave. It was pretty damn hard to keep an erection when his knee kept shooting stabbing pains through his leg.

"So, did your cop friends give you any information?" John asked, taking the icepack from his face and giving it it's very own, special glare before nearly slamming it down on Rodney's knee to sit with the other one. Obviously, John was going to do his damnedest to have his way tonight.

"Lorne had him singing 'till the sun came up," Ronon grunted out, placing his now empty beer can on Rodney's brand new coffee table… which actually did match his god awful couch.

"He held no issue giving the name of his employer once he was offered a deal." Teyla spoke, sipping at her tea. Rodney was pretty sure he had seen her spike it, but he couldn't be certain and wasn't about to go accusing her off it. Her little pinky could break his knee cap. "Gennings will be charged with conspiracy and attempted murder."

"Did he bother to explain how he got into a highly secure facility or, you know, how he figured out how to screw up my system." Rodney grumbled, wiggling a bit as his ass began to fall asleep.

Teyla nodded, smiling at Rodney, "Apparently, the Warden owed him a favor so he assumed the job of a security guard. I believe the favor was related to a gambling debt so the Warden has lost his position."

"Awesome. At least something good came out of my busted knee."

"Oh, and catching the guy trying to kill me wasn't a good thing?" John asked, moving to lean closer to Rodney.

"Well, it was… of course but…"

"I was not finished. Do you wish to know how he knew the abilities of your system, Rodney?"

"Of course I do!"

"Do you recall when you had lost your ID badge? He placed a bug on the new one that was issued to you. I believe he had stolen your old one as well."

"I told everyone I hadn't lost it. No one believed me but…"

"We all believed it was misplaced on your desk, Rodney. Though, that is how he found out about the ability to invade a persons dream. He was listening while you explained it to me. I assume you forgot it on your desk so he did not know of our other conversations." Teyla laughed at him before turning to Ronon to speak to him. "It is an amazing ability, to be able to help people with this would be…"

"You know, I just figured out how to fix your knee," John whispered into his ear, his lips pressed against the sensitive skin there for a moment before his tongue darted out for a second, causing Rodney to shiver.

"Oh?"

"Mhm," John mumbled, nipping at his ear before continuing, "I figure I'll put a brace on the damn thing then…" He trailed off and Rodney could feel him smirking.

"Then?"

"Then I can ride you till you don't feel a damn thing."

Rodney's hand instantly jerked out to grip John's thigh, his fingers digging into the thickening flesh. Thank God he was putting on weight; there was nothing more unnerving than feeling rough bones digging into his fingers as he gripped John's hips.

"Well, I think that's enough talking and celebrating." Rodney blurted out, trying to smile at Ronon and Teyla, "I think John and I are going to head in early, rough night and all."

"So, I finally have everyone's permission to go and get my own place?" John asked, throwing his arm over the back of the couch, behind Rodney who just rolled his eyes.

"If you are inclined to do so," Teyla raised her eyebrows at John, responding in her usual cool tone.

"Yes, I feel inclined to do so." Rodney looked over to see John's eyebrows in challenge to her look, "I'm an old man; I deserve my own place. A nice house with a garage."

"Well, you're perfectly welcome to stay here until you find your picket fence." Rodney grouched, rolling his eyes. He was allowed to be annoyed with John.

He jerked his head to look at John directly when the man laughed at him, "Of course I am." The smug bastard said before leaning down to kiss him, "And you're perfectly welcome at my new house with its picket fence."

"You're an asshole."

"Yup."

The End

A/N: Oh God. I can't believe I actually finished it. I can't believe I got the first draft finished in a month or the fact that I actually finished a story before posting. Goodness, this is a nice feeling. Not such a nice feeling when it took me a few months to finish the editing process and it'll never be as perfect as I want but, hey, you know, I'm still taking it all for a win.

I also have no idea why this was written mainly in Rodney's POV. I mean, obviously, it works well for it but the plan was for Sheppard's POV.

The idea for this basically started out from a want of seeing John in military prison… and then I needed a way fro McKay to be there. So, it kind of grew from there. I fully expected this to stay in my incomplete folder like the other ten or so SGA stories that I started the same way. I can say that the length is close tow aht I imagined, but now I don't feel as if I did the universe/idea much justice. (Considering that the universe was created as I wrote it. If you asked for the physical description of Rodney's system all you're going to get is black and boxy.

Major thanks go to Lastasalways who is an awesome bouncing board and plot kicker and did a quick read through for me.

I would also like to point out that this was written and posted to my journal over a year ago, so, if you ask how Rodney's invention works, I will have to find my notes from… somewhere.

Well, I hope you all enjoyed this. Thanks for reading!


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